Chapter 2 - The Wall Street Interview
The next morning, the Manhattan sun cut sharply through the glass towers of Wall Street as I walked toward a towering steel-and-glass skyscraper housing one of the world's most prestigious international investment firms. My heart hammered against my ribs, and my hands trembled slightly as I smoothed down the lapels of my tailored blazer. It was my first major corporate interview in seven years.
Inside a sleek, minimalist conference room, three senior executives interrogated me for over an hour. They fired rapid-fire questions regarding volatile energy markets, complex Arabic contract terminology, cross-cultural arbitration laws, and regional risk assessment. For the first few minutes, my throat felt dry, but as the technical questions piled up, years of dormant knowledge took over. The answers came back steady, precise, and authoritative, one by one.
When the formal interview finally concluded, Daniel, the senior adviser who had initially reached out to recruit me, walked me down the plush carpeted corridor toward the private elevators.
“Claire,” he said, flashing an encouraging smile, “there’s something you should probably know before you head out.”
I paused, turning to face him. “What’s that?”
“Your former supervisor from your energy sector days works with us now as a senior partner.”
My brow furrowed in surprise. “Frank Parker?”
“The very same,” Daniel nodded. “He personally reviewed your résumé when it crossed our desk.”
My breath caught in my throat. Frank Parker was a legendary, notoriously demanding figure in international energy negotiations. If he remembered my past work, he wouldn't hold back.
Daniel continued, his smile widening. “He told us that one of your translated Arabic contracts during a critical acquisition saved your former company more than a million dollars in outside legal fees and arbitration costs.”
For several long seconds, I couldn't speak. Seven years of being treated by Ethan like I was useless, boring, and professionally incompetent suddenly cracked open inside my chest, letting in a flood of long-overdue validation.
“So the interview…?” I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
May you like
“Oh, that was mostly a formality,” Daniel laughed warmly. “We already knew your pedigree. Welcome to the firm, Claire.”
I stepped out onto the sunlit Wall Street sidewalk feeling taller, stronger, and more alive than I had in nearly a decade.
